


Only Hours

by Sarcastic_Cupcake



Category: Original Work
Genre: Closeted Character, Coming Out, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, Lesbian Character, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Cupcake/pseuds/Sarcastic_Cupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really shouldn't be that hard. But it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Hours

He's staying for the dance.

It's Day Without Hate, we just got back from Diversity Day at the high school, and I plan on coming out to him today.

And he's staying for the dance.

* * *

I start a mental countdown (two hours).

Acting normal is hard, so very hard. I'm so preoccupied with my thoughts that he asks me what's wrong. I say something vague about being stressed and needing to have a difficult conversation, and he understands. He looks disappointed, though, and to lessen his curiosity, I tell him that he'll find out later. We're not even halfway through the dance, and already I'm having doubts.

* * *

One hour.

I lose myself in the music, trying not to think about the situation. If I pretend that I'm okay for long enough, maybe I will be.

* * *

Fifteen minutes.

I am thrown back to another time, another place. I remember the cold white chairs of the principal's office as I am informed that my best friend's email was "hacked" and not to believe a word of what it says.

I remember reading things that only she would know about me being shamelessly told to the one person I can't and won't ever trust.

I remember the awful silence of the realization that the entire school knows my deepest secret.

* * *

Five minutes.

I am not there, I am not then, I am not telling those people. This will be different. It _will_ be different.

* * *

 One minute.

"Hey, can I talk with you for a moment?" I ask him.

"Sure, what's up?" he says, following me into the hallway.

"Um, well, remember how I was telling you earlier about being stressed and needing to talk to people about stuff?"

"Yeah…?" he replies, mildly confused.

"Well, you're one of the people, and I wanted to tell you first off that I'm a coward, and it's taking a lot of my courage to tell you this, so if I'm not very coherent, that's why, but I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, I identify as lesbian." I finish in a rush, feeling strangely disconnected. "So yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you."

He laughs. "That's it?"

Numb. I can't think. He is laughing. He is laughing at me. All of this was for nothing. I have just lost one of the two friends I would trust with my life (and indeed, just have).

"I...you..." I am speechless, though with humiliation or pain or rage, I can't say.

"I thought you were going to tell me that you killed someone yesterday or something! That's nothing!" He grins, letting me know that he's kidding.

It takes me an eternity to realize that _he is not laughing at me_. I am lightheaded with relief and shakily, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

"Well, apparently, to some people, it isn't." I smile humorlessly.

"Who?" he asks, the simple question laced with steel. In that instant, I am filled with admiration and trust and warmth and I know that I have found a lifelong friend and I will cherish our friendship even more.

"Just the kids at my old school," I answer. I've pushed down the memories as much as I can, so I don't offer details.

"They're assholes," he replies. I am taken aback by the speed and simplicity of his answer; I can hardly believe that I have been blessed with this person, this friend.

I've never been accepted for who I really am; the concept that someone would stand up for me without a second thought is completely alien. I have to admit, however, it's a nice feeling.

"Did your old school even have a GSA?" he asks, half-joking, because really, what kind of school wouldn't?

I sigh. "Of course not; that would require being supportive of others."

He laughs, even though I wasn't kidding. I smile, and with only a few words, the awful tension has been broken.

I debate whether or not to call my mom and tell her the dance is over, but I decide not to. She'll be here in an hour anyway, and I want more time to just sit and talk.

* * *

After a while, we are herded outside, but I don't mind. We talk about ordinary things, inconsequential things. He tells me about a Youtuber he watches, and I fall in a snowbank, and we laugh together, and I revel in the sheer _normalcy_ of it all and I want to pinch myself to make sure this is not a dream.

Because this really happened. I am really standing here and having this conversation. We are still friends. And we will continue to be friends.

* * *

Eventually, of course, I have to go. He walks me to the car, where my mom is waiting impatiently. As we drive off, I see him wave. I smile, and even though I know he can't see me, I give a tiny wave back. I can hardly keep the grin off my face as I realize that there will be more days like today, and I am not alone.


End file.
